We'll Smile But Right Now I Can't Bear
by glitterdoves
Summary: Past and future AU based on Sarah by Ray Lamontagne. Kurt and Blaine were childhood friends, but when Blaine meets Kurt on summer break from college the boy he knew is almost unrecognizable.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: We'll Smile But Right Now I Can't Bear**  
**Rating: PG (for the moment)**  
**Spoilers: None**  
**Word Count: 3,285**  
**Warnings: Possible mix-up of tenses**  
**Summary: Past and future AU based on Sarah by Ray Lamontagne. Kurt and Blaine were childhood friends, but when Blaine meets Kurt on summer break from college the boy he knew is almost unrecognizable.**

_1999_

When the Anderson family moved in next door to the Hummels, Elizabeth Hummel brought over her best lemon-merengue pie and her five year-old son, Kurt. Blaine Anderson opened the door, and as soon as Kurt took in the tiny boy with hair like a curly mushroom cloud and glasses that had to be constantly shoved back up his nose, he decided it was time for a change. Which is how Blaine ended up back on his new doorstep a few hours later, hair irregularly chopped, smothered in Elizabeth's makeup, and tottering a little because his glasses had been taken away on the grounds of 'too last year'. Kurt was five, not a world-class stylist.

Both mothers laughed it off, Charlotte Anderson saying her son had needed a haircut for a while now, and Elizabeth saying she didn't wear her makeup that often, so she didn't mind to bearing utilized for recreational purposes. Blaine had been scrubbed clean, much to Kurt's dismay. The little boy had stormed out of the house, declaring that nobody appreciated his genius, anyway. But a bond was formed that day between Kurt and his new neighbor. Which was evident the next morning when Kurt showed up and Blaine's, asking if he wanted to come over because he was 'Sick and tired of singing by himself, and he needed an Aladdin.' It was the start of something beautiful.

But, even though the mothers and their little boys had hit it off immediately, it took a little bit longer for Burt to warm up to Alex Anderson. Alex, being an professor who left stacks of books wherever he went and had the same cloud of curly hair that he had passed down to his son gave the first impression of being a bit dense. He was the type of spacy person that left burners on and would be half-way through washing a dish before having a brilliant idea for his next paper and putting the dish away, still dirty. Burt Hummel was a very careful man, working around tools in his garage that could have fatal repercussions if misused. He was not the biggest fan of Alex, as he found it hard to appreciate a lack of common sense. But one night, when the absent-minded professor came to pick Blaine up from another one of many play dates, he noticed that Burt was watching football. He said something, no one really remembers what, but it caused Burt to turn away from the television with an incredulous expression on his face and say "You watch?" Granted, it wasn't an entirely eloquent sentence, but it was a sentence that created a gateway into many Sunday night football games, which in turn meant more time for Elizabeth to gossip and share a cup of tea with Charlotte, and more time for Kurt to show Blaine his Barbie weddings. Everyone was happy.

_2000_

Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson were inseparable. Not even a year together and they were like brothers, going to the park and the pool together, and watching every Disney movie that had been released several times over. Sure, there were other kids in the neighborhood, but neither of could find a playmate like each other. Blaine didn't care about the age difference. He was in awe of Kurt, who was so confident and brave and talked like a grownup. (And was maybe a little bossy, but Blaine didn't mind) Kurt loved that he had found someone who would let him sing whatever parts he wanted when they listened to his Disney tape and control how much tea was distributed at their backyard tea parties. Plus, Blaine was so funny when he pretended to be Abu or Scuttle or Gus. Kurt thought it was important to have a funny friend.

It helped to have parents that were best friends, too. Every other Friday night was music night, when the Andersons would come over and Elizabeth would play the piano. The women would teach the little boys old show tunes, while Alex and Burt watched TV. (And maybe joined in sometimes) Charlotte had a voice like an angel, and sometimes Kurt would see Elizabeth wistfully staring. (He later found out that his mother went through throat surgery years ago, this had put an end to her showgirl career) Kurt and Blaine weren't too shabby either, soaring high with their prepubescent sopranos. (Kurt's voice wouldn't change very much, of course, but he wasn't aware of this now)

Yes, the year 2000 was one of the best years either boy would ever remember.

_2001_

In February, things between the two families became a little strained. Charlotte brought her whole family over, gleefully announcing that she was pregnant. Kurt didn't really see the big deal, but Blaine looked happy. Elizabeth had put on a smile and congratulations, saying that she was going to throw the best baby shower Lima, Ohio had ever seen. But after the other family left, Elizabeth had fled to her room, but not before Kurt saw the tears streaming down her face. Burt had hurried after her, and soon Kurt could hear them arguing. Kurt didn't really understand why she was upset, not even after words like _adoption_ and _secondary infertility_ floated down the stairs. But his mother was upset, so he did what he could, bringing her a mug of peppermint tea and apologizing for her being sad. (He didn't think he was responsible, but it was one could never be too careful) Elizabeth had smiled through her tears and kissed her son, thanking him and telling him that she felt better already.

After that Elizabeth partly swallowed her pride, helping Charlotte pick out a crib but making excuses when asked to go shopping for baby toys. Kurt was even jealous of this unborn child, who Blaine proudly declared that he would help take care of all the time. How dare this baby come and steal his best friend, who Kurt had known for what felt like forever and coveted whenever he could? It was like something out of a fairy tale, the unborn baby had put a spell on the Anderson family that made them forget how much they loved the Hummels. Kurt was not happy about this.

Like Elizabeth he began to make excuses to avoid Blaine, punishing them both with his jealousy. He missed his playmate dearly and he knew Blaine felt the same (judging by the sad looks that were directed towards his window when Kurt declined yet another invitation to the park) Kurt desperately wanted to end this cold he had created between them. But he had psyched his seven-year old self out, convinced that Blaine wouldn't like him as much if he said sorry first. (He was a socially advanced child, managing to overthink simple problems before overthinking was even expected) This changed, however, when Elizabeth brought him home from the library one day and Blaine was in his room.

_Kurt had screamed in fright when he saw him, dropping his books._

"_Daddy, why didn't you tell me Blaine was here?"_

"_Sorry," Burt called, "Must of slipped my mind."_

_Blaine, who had been sitting on Kurt's bed, slid down and went to help Kurt pick up his books. "I'm sorry I scared you." Looking far more serious then anyone his age ever should, Blaine took Kurt by the hand and pulled him into his bedroom. Sitting on the floor, he yanked Kurt down with him, and for a minute they sat there is silence. And then, Blaine spoke. "Why don't you like me anymore, Kurt?"_

Kurt, being as socially progressed as he was, was still a little boy. So he started to cry. Blaine had pulled him into a hug and Kurt got snot all over the older boy's shirt. he explained everything, his jealousy over Blaine's unborn sibling, how he didn't think the Blaine loved him anymore. To which Blaine, wrapping his arms around Kurt, had replied that he was always love Kurt, and that Kurt was being stupid. They would always be best friends, and the baby wouldn't change that.

When Elizabeth Hummel saw her son and his best friend walk down the staircase and out the door, hand-in-hand, she resolved to fix come clean with Charlotte and fix their friendship. Because surely if her conflicted son could do it, she could.

The silly rift between them was closed, and life continued like it always had. Elizabeth gladly shopped and went out for coffee with Charlotte, Burt had Alex over to watch the game, whatever that may have been, and Kurt and Blaine were inseparable. But when tragedy struck the nation in September, tragedy also struck the Anderson family.

Kurt and Blaine had been in school when they noticed something was going on. The teachers were frantic, rushing in and out of the classrooms and whispering things to each other that drew horrified gasps from every listener. At 11 the principal had come on the announcements, voice shaking, saying that school was getting out early and everyone should stay in their classrooms until their parents came for them. The students cheered at this unexpected half day, but Blaine and Kurt had both sensed something happening below the surface.

When Charlotte Anderson turned on her TV that morning and saw the footage of a plane flying into the Twin Towers, she fell to her knees in shock and began to scream. Alex, who had not even left for work yet, rushed downstairs to aid his wife, who was now drawing her hand away from the hem of her dress, sticky with blood. He had rushed her to the hospital as fast as he could, phoning the Hummels on the way with a request to pick their son up and for Elizabeth to come to the hospital as soon as she could. Unfortunately for the unborn Gregory Anderson, it was too late. Charlotte had miscarried upon learning that the building both of her parents worked at had become a pillar of smoke and flame. It a tragedy for the nation and a tragedy for the two families in Lima, Ohio.

_2002_

2002 was perhaps the worst year of Kurt Hummel's life.

It was alright in the beginning. He had patched up his friendship with Blaine, and the Andersons were slowly recovering from the loss of their unborn son. The Hummels were there for Blaine when Charlotte and Alex were too distraught to comfort anyone but each other. While still young, Blaine was old enough to feel the loss, and to take some of the excess emotion from his parents. Kurt began to be almost a therapist and teacher for his older friend, rubbing comforting circles on his back like he'd seen on TV and helping with the 4th grade reading that Blaine had trouble in. (Kurt excelled at reading)

Kurt and Blaine began to feel about each other how they didn't feel about anyone else. Kurt had dreams sometimes where he was Ariel or Snow White or Cinderella, and Blaine was the handsome prince that came riding in on his horse and made everything alright again, He'd wake up just before they kissed and lie awake at night, wondering why his life couldn't be a fairy tale. He had wondered if this was the love they talked about, the love his and Blaine's parents shared. If love was wanting to be with someone all the time, then he was definitely in love with Blaine. Everyone else at school annoyed him, but Blaine never did. Blaine had always understood what Kurt was feeling or thinking. Blaine always let Kurt play with his ridiculously curly hair and had tea with him. (Even though their fathers were saying they were getting too old for tea parties) And it was too early for bullies, but Kurt was sure that if anyone tried to hurt him, Blaine would come riding in like Prince Charming and beat the bullies off. That was the kind of person Blaine was. So, yes, Kurt was fairly certain that he loved Blaine.

One special Saturday afternoon, when Kurt and Blaine had been having a tea party as usual, things had paused. Blaine had slowly put his stuffed animal down and taken Kurt's hands, pulling him to his feet. Then, getting down on one knee, he had taken out a little box and opened it. Inside was a gold band, and Kurt gasped.

"_I found it in the street," Blaine admitted. "I didn't want to take one of Mom's rings because stealing is wrong, but I polished it up so it would be pretty. Like you." Like he had so many times before, Blaine taken Kurt by the hand. "Kurt Hummel...I love you. WIll you marry me?" _

_While normally he wouldn't have even considered the idea of putting something that had been on the street on his hand, this was different. This was better than all of the scenarios he had imagined. So he nodded. "Yes. I love you too, Blaine." And then shyly he pulled Blaine to his feet. "C-can I kiss you?" _

_Blaine smiled. "Not yet. I have something else planned." Then, without a warning, he pulled Kurt to the door and down the stairs. "We're going to the park, Mr. and Mrs. H!" he shouted, not pausing to hear their answer but instead flying out of the door. The park wasn't too far, so they ran hand-in-hand down the sidewalk as fast as their short legs would carry them. When they reached the park and the woods, Blaine let go of Kurt's hand to maneuver around the underbrush. Kurt knew exactly where they were headed. It was a small clearing, one they had discovered with their mothers when they were too young to go out by themselves. They had stopped coming to it when Charlotte got pregnant, and Kurt hadn't really thought about it since. But it was still here and still beautiful, with sunlight filtering through the treetops and wildflowers growing around the edges. Spinning a little, Blaine danced into the center, where he extended a hand to Kurt._

"_Join me?" _

_Kurt giggled and did so, letting Blaine spin him around a few times before standing still. Blaine's face grew very solemn. "Dearly beloved," he said, addressing the forest, "We are gathered here today to celebrate the joining of this man and this man, to-"_

"_Oh my gosh," Kurt giggled "Did you memorize the whole thing?" Blaine looked at him impatiently, and then frowned. _

"_Aww, Kurt, now I can't remember what comes next." _

_Kurt giggled again. "It's okay. Just skip to the last part."_

_Blaine was smiling too. "Fine. Do you, Kurt Hummel, take me to be your lawfully wedded husband?" _

_Kurt nodded. "I do. And do you, Blaine Anderson, take me to be your lawfully wedded husband?" _

"_I do." _

_Together, both hands clasped, they had whispered "You may now kiss the groom."_

As they were only children it wasn't a serious kiss, more like a brief, chaste touch of lips. But both of them were old enough to recognize what it meant, what they meant to each other. Both of them knew that a relationship like this was hard to find.

Kurt had yawned and laid down on the grass, feeling lazy in the afternoon sunlight. Blaine had joined him, and Kurt put his head on the other boy's chest and Blaine pulled Kurt close to him. They fell asleep like this in the sweet-smelling grass, both so content and filled with good feeling that they could have stayed this way forever.

Unfortunately, life doesn't work out like that.

At 7:30 that night the search party had found them, led by Alex and Charlotte. Alex was grim, Charlotte could barely hold in her tears. They had scooped the groggy boys up, taking them back home before either was really aware of what was going on.

Kurt had woken up on the Anderson's couch, to words like _too many pills _and _should we take him to the hospital? _floating around. The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was Blaine, sitting on the floor with his head on the couch. When Kurt sat up, Blaine's eyes had fluttered open and were immediately filled with sorrow.

"_Kurt...I'm so sorry." _

_Kurt sprang to his feet, quickly looking around. "What is it?" All of the adults in the room grew silent and turned to look at him. And then Charlotte rushed forward._

"_Kurt, sweetie...there's been an accident. Your mom, she's not with us anymore."_

_Kurt swallowed. "What do you mean?" _

"_She died."_

All Kurt remembered after that was falling to the ground, and feeling the arms of several different people wrap tightly around him.

The rest of the year was torture. A series of passing condolences and pats on the back, but Kurt hadn't cared. His mother was gone, the woman who played the piano when he felt like singing and treated him like a king when he was sick. The woman who had taught him so much about life and love and fashion and friendship. No amount of sorries would bring her back to him, and he was heartbroken. It was easy to be in a state of denial at first, to expect her to come walking around the corner and apologize for scaring him and Daddy. But when they stood in the cemetery and he watched his mother's coffin be lowered into the ground, there was no denying it anymore. She was gone. On that afternoon the heart of a little boy turned cold.

The Andersons had moved away a few months after. When Kurt turned distant Charlotte had done her best to reach out, but Kurt had retreated too far. Blaine still came over for tea parties, but Kurt no longer was driven by that confident spark that made him so fun to be around. So, despite his best intentions, Blaine had also drifted away. And when Alex was offered a job at Harvard Law he took it, and the Andersons were gone from the Hummels' life forever.

_2013_

Blaine Anderson walked out of the coffee shop, guitar slung over shoulder, thanking the owner. It was the end of a long day, playing a double show and running solely on lattes. It wasn't that he minded summer break. It was just that when college wasn't happening, he had to work twice as hard to have enough money for the extra things. He had made a promise to himself not to live solely off of the trust fund his grandparents had set up, wanting to try life by himself without a crutch. But hey, if things didn't work out, the trust fund was always an option.

Blaine looked around this bohemian section of Los Angeles, the late-day rays of sunlight bouncing off of the stucco buildings and the smell of baked goods still in the air. For once in his life he felt like he really belonged. (He was kinda glad that the end of the world hadn't happened in 2012, otherwise his friend Tyler never would have dragged him here) He could very easily go into all of that sappy, sentimental stuff, about turning over a new leaf and new beginnings. He could be that kind of guy. But his thought process was completely thrown off track when he saw a flash of brown hair with a familiar curl and blue-green eyes. He gasped. The person had rounded the corner and was gone, but Blaine broke into a run. There was only one person he had ever met with eyes like that. Kurt Hummel.


	2. Chapter 2

_2013_

"Excuse me!" Blaine shouted, jogging down the street after the boy he thought he knew. "Hey!" Fortunately the street was not a crowded one, so Kurt stayed in his sight. Pushing just a little bit more, Blaine managed to reach him and gently tapped his shoulder. The boy spun around. Blaine's knees went a little weak.

"Oh my god. It is you."

"Excuse me?" the boy snapped, and Blaine had a second wave of emotion. Doubt. The person in front of him looked exactly like an older version of boy Kurt Hummel, more creamy skin and long, thin figure than Blaine had ever imagined. His hair was perfectly coifed and skin flawless, but there was something different. Large, dark circles that had obviously been half-concealed with makeup sat under blue-green eyes. He was dressed in a non-descript suit that was far less extravagant than Blaine remembered his taste being, down to the plain black dress shoes. But it was the eyes that made Blaine do a double-take. What he remembered quite clearly as being warm pools of color that could express a different emotion with each glance were now cold and hard, lacking the depth and spark that had once made them so appealing. Blaine took a step back. It was Kurt Hummel, but not the Kurt Hummel he remembered.

"I'm Blaine Anderson. We were childhood...friends."

It was all coming back to him now, sepia-toned memories of tea parties, 50s music, Barbie weddings. Their own 'wedding' in the park, grass and sunlight and feelings that the nine year old Blaine was sure he was never going to have again with another person. The pain from his mother's miscarriage and the death of Elizabeth Hummel became fresh again, and Blaine had to shut his eyes, briefly, to stop from being bogged down with too much feeling. When he opened them again, Kurt had a different look about him. It was one of recognition, pain, and sorrow. His lips were pressed in a straight line.

"Yes, I remember you. It's been a while."

Blaine nodded, instinctively reaching for Kurt's hand like he used to, feeling a little stab in the heart when the other pulled away.

"It's been so long. I mean..how are you?"

Kurt glanced sideways and then back at Blaine, clearly uncomfortable. "I'm fine, thank you."

Blaine adjusted his guitar, which was beginning to slip, and frowned. "Is there something wrong? You're acting like we've never met."

Kurt shook his head. "I'm fine. I'm just in a hurry." He turned to go, giving Blaine one last look. "It was nice to see you again." He started to walk away, leaving the other boy stunned. For the years he had lain awake at night, imagining their reconciliation, this was never what he thought would happen.

"Wait! Don't you want to get a coffee sometime? Catch up?" He distinctly saw Kurt's head shake.

"No, thank you."

This wasn't right.

"You at least owe me an explanation!"

Kurt stopped.

Blaine winced. "That didn't come out exactly right."

But it was too late, as Kurt had rounded on him, cheeks flushed and eyes blazing.

"An explanation for what, may I ask?"

"Look, Kurt, I wasn't-"

"An explanation for what?"

Blaine looked down at the pavement, adjusting his guitar again, feeling inexplicably ashamed. "You never wrote to me," he murmured. "I sent you letters, my mother sent care packages...you never wrote back."

Kurt dropped the briefcase Blaine hadn't noticed and advanced upon him. "I never wrote to you because it was too painful. Your family abandoned me for some cushy teaching job, just like everyone else that I've ever loved abandoned me. Except for my father. Do you have any idea what it was like? I was the only out kid at McKinley, and every day I went the torture they thought I deserved." His voice faltered. "I've been thrown in dumpsters, locked in portapotties, and had my first kiss stolen by a closeted jock. I did it alone. I didn't need you then and I sure as hell don't need you now. So please, you've been out of my life for this long, let's keep it that way." Without another word Kurt turned back around, and then he was gone. Blaine sank to the ground, feeling as if he had just been slapped.

It seemed unreal, to think that the boy he'd known had changed so much. He remembered the coldness Kurt had shone after the death of his mother, but that was understandable. What he had witnessed was an explosion of bitterness and anger, and he could see the pain that had shone quite clearly behind Kurt's eyes. Blaine had never felt as regretful as he did now, wishing that he could have protected the younger boy. At 5'8 he couldn't do much, but at least Kurt would have had someone to suffer with.

He sighed, standing up. The flood of cars from the end of the work day was beginning, and he flagged down a yellow cab. It slid to a stop and he opened the door, loading his guitar in and about to follow it when the driver tapped him on the shoulder.

"That fancy suitcase yours, kid?"

"Hmm?" Blaine turned his head and sure enough, Kurt's briefcase sat on the pavement. He sighed and grabbed it, climbing into the cab. "I guess so."

Kurt was going to see him again whether he wanted to or not.

An hour later and Blaine was sitting in the sofa in the apartment he (temporarily) shared with Wes and David, idly flicking the tag on the briefcase.

"It says 'Law Offices of Hadley and Morgan'. He must be an intern."

Wes poked his head out from the kitchen. "An intern who wants nothing to do with you. Why don't you just mail it?"

Blaine sighed. "I need to apologize in person, for whatever I did to him. If he still hates me, then I'll really stay out of his life."

David who was sitting beside him and loudly making his way through a bag of Cheetos, scrunched his nose. "I'm Blaine," he mocked, "so loyal and gentlemanly that I have to apologize to someone I haven't spoken to for years and obviously dislikes me."

Blaine stuck his tongue out, not the most mature comeback, but the first reaction that popped into his head. "What's wrong with being a gentleman?"

Wes came in and sat on the other side if him, holding a large bowl of microwave popcorn. "Because, sometimes you've got to let things go. He's obviously changed, you need to accept that and move on."

"Are you sure you're not a psychology major?" Blaine deadpanned, one eyebrow cocked.

Wes brought a finger to Blaine's lips, effectively quieting him. "No, young grasshopper. I am just a sage advice giver." He grabbed the remote. "Now be quiet, my show is on."

Blaine sat back on the couch, determined to settle the matter in his brain. But he couldn't shake the feeling that something else was wrong with Kurt, a deeper problem. He hadn't looked healthy.

_Oh, well. There's nothing I can do about it right now._

Trying not to think about it anymore, Blaine grabbed a handful of popcorn and set his attention to whatever stupid talent competition Wes was obsessed with at the moment.

In the end Blaine had decided that it was his duty to check on Kurt. They had been best friends and childhood sweethearts, for god sakes, and he felt like he owed him something. The more he thought about the guiltier he felt. If he had lobbied for it hard enough he probably could have gotten his parents to let him stay in Lima. After the death of Gregory they had been pretty much under his thumb. But the thought had never crossed his mind. He had been an obedient child. He did whatever his parents asked, no matter how unhappy he was. That attitude had stayed with him through his entire young life (except for a goth/punk phase he had gone through, but Blaine didn't like to think about that) and he felt a _moral obligation_ to make sure Kurt was okay. You can't ignore moral obligations, right?

That was how Blaine found himself jogging up the steps to the Law Offices of Hadley and Morgan the following morning, feeling somewhat self-conscious.

The lobby had an old money feel to it, with mahogany furniture and dark granite flooring. A glass fountain served as the divider between the waiting room and the reception desk, where a tall and leggy blonde stood with a peppy smile on her face.

"Can I help you, sir?"

Blaine nodded. "Yeah, I'm looking for Kurt Hummel? I think he might be an intern here? He forgot his briefcase."

The receptionist reached out to take the briefcase, smile never leaving her face. "I can take that for you."

Almost protectively Blaine leaped back, holding the case against his chest. "No, thank you. I'd rather give it to him myself."

The perfect smile faltered for a moment, but then it was back in place and the blonde beside him, taking his arm. "Right this way." She led him through a set of large doors into the connecting hallway, which was lined with other doors bearing various plaques. She opened the third door on the left, which revealed what seemed to be a break room, and let go of his arm. "He's usually behind the water cooler. Make it fast." And then she was gone, the click-clack of her heels fading as she returned to the lobby.

Blaine rushed over to the water cooler, and found what seemed to be a make-shift office. And face-down on the table was Kurt, sleeping, hair fluttering as he exhaled and cheek pressed down against the metal spirals of his notebook. Sunlight shone through the blinds on the window and made a pattern that reached over Kurt and on to the floor. His suit jacket was neatly hanging from another chair and his tie was loosened.

Blaine didn't know what he was feeling.

He wanted to cry, take a picture, shake Kurt awake. The familiarity of that _exhale _was almost too much to bear, and he contemplated just setting the briefcase down and leaving. Maybe Wes was right. Kurt was just fine on his own and obviously didn't want Blaine back in his life. (He was also the most beautiful thing Blaine had ever seen, but he was trying not to think about that too much) Sighing, he set it down, but his plan was ruined when he turned and knocked over a coffee mug perched on a side table.

"Shit!"

"Mmm?" Kurt's eyes fluttered open, cheeks a little flushed, and Blaine had to stifle a groan. The sudden tightening of his jeans was no coincidence, but he couldn't help it. What was he suppose to do if _that face looked exactly how he imagined it would in his bed with a fistful of white sheet after a long night of-_

"Blaine. What are you doing here?"

_You're not a horny teenager_, Blaine chastised himself, before putting his hands up to hopefully deflect anymore angry outbursts. "I'm sorry, I was just returning your briefcase. I'll go."

Silence.

"I mean, if that's really what you want," he added, figuring that it couldn't hurt to try. Kurt sighed, rubbing the mark on his cheek.

"No, I'm sorry. I was extremely tired and agitated last night, seeing you was quite the shock..." He looked at Blaine, eyes still a little clouded with sleep. "It wasn't an excuse for me to be rude, but I was serious. After high school, I learned how to be alone. And now I'm headed down a successful career path where I can make enough to be comfortable, and then maybe I'll think about settling down and being happy."

Blaine let out a frustrated huff. "No offense, Kurt, but this doesn't look like a successful career path." He gestured to the stacks of files and loose sheets of paper spread across the table. "This doesn't even look like a healthy working environment."

Kurt gave him a warning look, and Blaine sighed. "Let me take you out for coffee. One coffee!" he exclaimed when Kurt opened his mouth to protest. "One, and if by the end you feel the same way about me, then I'll never bother you again. I promise."

He waited for Kurt's answer, fully expecting rejection.

"..fine."

Blaine's face broke out into a wide, dopy grin. "Great! I-"

"But, on one condition."

"Anything."

"You let me go home and get cleaned up. I'll meet you at the coffee shop on the corner in an hour."

"Did you sleep here?"

"Go. _Now_."

Still grinning, Blaine gave Kurt a little wave and practically skipped out. He couldn't remember the last time someone made him feel like this, life a fourteen year old girl, but it was _fantastic_.


	3. Chapter 3

"So tell me, Kurt Hummel. What brings you to Los Angeles?"

Kurt sipped his latte. "I'm a crime fighter who masquerades as a tired law intern."

"Touché."

"You tell me, Blaine Anderson. What brings you to Los Angeles?"

Blaine chuckled and leaned back, fiddling with an empty sugar packet. "I can't think of anything witty to say, so I'll just tell the truth. After I graduated I moved here, much to my parents' disapproval. It was the first thing I've ever done that they didn't like."

Kurt smirked. "You were always the obedient one."

"So, I enrolled in UCLA for music and film. Been here ever since. I play shows at small venues during the summer and share an apartment with friends."

"Hence the guitar?"

"Hence the guitar."

Kurt looked thoughtful. "I guess I have to tell you something true, now.." He took another sip from his latte. "I did sleep at the office."

Blaine shook his head in confusion. "But..why? They can't make you work that hard."

Kurt gave him a humorless smile. "You underestimate the Law Offices of Hadley and Morgan. And-" he held up a hand to stop Blaine from talking "-I know what you're going to say. Why would I be there there if I'm so tired and I have to work so hard? Because they happen to be the most successful firm in LA. I was lucky to be offered the internship."

It didn't make sense. This was _Kurt_, the boy who had been playing with makeup and clothing since he was able to crawl and had dozens of collages from fashion magazines by the time he was six. Sure, it was common for career choices to change as people grew up, but there was no way that someone like Kurt would deviate so far from personal interests. But, something in the brunette's eyes told Blaine that this part of the conversation was over, and he decided to let it go. They sat there in silence for a moment, before Blaine shifted awkwardly. "Look. I don't want to make you talk about things you don't want to. Was there anything you enjoyed about high school?"

Kurt got a wistful look in his eye. "..there was Glee Club."

Score! Blaine cheered mentally, not out loud. (Because how dorky would that be?) But he was happy to have found something they still had in common. "That's great! You sang?"

Kurt nodded. "Did you?"

"Yeah! I ended up going to this private school in Massachusetts called Dalton Academy, we were the Dalton Academy Warblers."

Kurt smirked again, something Blaine was beginning to find both irritating and endearing. "Sounds kind of like Gay Hogwarts."

Blaine snorted. "Not quite. It was bad for personal identity, though. They had a zero-tolerance policy, but were pretty big on conformity and unity." He thought about what Wes and David called his 'dapper phase', where he had slicked his hair back with copious amounts of hair gel and done his best to erase the part of himself that stuck out. Thinking about it made him feel pretty stupid, and once again he thanked the stars that he had decided to pursue what he loved. Sure, Wes and David had been an unexpected part of the package, but he loved them anyway. (Even if they could be complete asshats) "Tell me about your Glee Club."

Kurt's mouth quirked to one side. "It was the only place outside of my home where I felt that I could be myself without consequences. There were people in it who really liked me for me and weren't afraid of 'catching the gay'. Our teacher, Will Schuester...he meant well, but he had personal drama of his own that often interfered with the club. It was fun, nonetheless, but we disbanded my senior year. Not enough members." He chuckled. "The stories I could tell you."

Blaine wasn't sure if Kurt's story was the happiest or saddest thing he had ever heard. Not for the first time since Kurt had come back into his life, he felt a deep pang of regret that he had not been able to be there for the younger boy.

"I know what you're thinking."

Blaine raised an eyebrow. "You do?"

Kurt nodded. "So you can stop the gentlemanly crap. You being there would not have made a difference. Nothing would have changed."

Blaine was a little miffed about being called out, as most people found the gentlemanly part of him absolutely charming. Then again, Kurt was not most people. So he decided to protest, instead. "Why don't you think so? I could have been there for you, I could have helped you-"

Kurt held up a hand to cut him off, lips pressed in a thin line. "Trust me. It wouldn't have made a difference."

Blaine gave a little huff of frustration and leaned forward, voice low. "Kurt. What aren't you telling me?"

There was a beat of Kurt staring back at him, and then the other stood up, the legs of his chair screeching across the linoleum floor and drawing the attention of several nearby patrons. "I think that's enough catching up for today." He grabbed his suit jacket and satchel, starting for the door. "Thanks for the coffee."

Blaine stood up too, cursing his stupidity and the damage he had done to the fragile tendrils of what could possibly be a friendship. "Wait!" Kurt stopped. "I'm sorry. Will you come to my show tomorrow night? It's at the Blue Brick Cafe, 8-9." Kurt looked over his shoulder, small smile on his lips.

"Possibly."

And then he was gone again, the tinkling of bells on the door signifying his departure. The cafe, which had turned mostly silent, slowly began to come alive with chatter once more. Blaine rubbed circles on his temples and met the gaze of one nosy barista. He smiled, what Wes and David called his 'I'm charming so screw you' smile. "Can I help you?" The barista quickly looked away and Blaine sighed, downing the dregs of his coffee. At least he had made progress with Kurt. Possibly.

The next two days were ridiculously nerve racking. Wes and David weren't around much, claiming that Blaine playing all of Katy Perry's albums on repeat required them to camp out and the video game store in order to purge themselves of the glitter that had taken root in the apartment. When he wasn't listening to the pop goddess, Blaine was thinking about not thinking about Kurt (he was failing) and obsessively going over every song on the setlist for the show. Even though his roomates were constantly reminding him that he didn't even know if Kurt was coming, Blaine wanted to be ready. The last time Kurt had heard him sing had been before they hit puberty, so the standards were a little higher. He didn't feel twenty years old, he felt like he was back in high school, getting up the courage to ask out or kiss his first boyfriend. Blaine was pretty positive that he didn't want to lose Kurt again.

Kurt. Kurt was a mystery. It was frustrating, because he could mostly piece together Kurt after the move and Kurt today. But there was something missing, information that he was sure he wouldn't be able to figure out on his own. He had to wait and see if Kurt still wanted anything to do with him.

For a minute Blaine thought that he might be in love with Kurt. And then dismissed it.

Because it was a ridiculous thought.

_Right?_

He had just gotten out of a bad relationship, had his heart smashed into a thousand pieces. He hadn't even admired a nice ass since the breakup, (well, maybe that wasn't strictly true) but he definitely had not thought about loving again.

Dale Fincher had been a true All-American Boy. (His name was Dale, I mean come on) Great student and star football player, he lived in a frat house and hosted parties almost every weekend. Broad-shouldered, tall, and muscular, he had not been the kind of guy Blaine would ever think about dating. But Dale had relentlessly courted Blaine, bringing roses to his performances and leaving little love notes in his bag. Finally, despite the warnings from every gay in the music/theater community that Dale was a player and went after everyone he thought was hot, regardless of their gender, Blaine agreed to date him. The first few weeks had been fantastic. Romantic dates, amazing sex, up until the the four separate occasions where Blaine had walked in on Dale with someone else.

On came the playlists of songs about broken hearts and the crumpled up pieces of notebook paper with song lyrics about broken hearts. Cartons of ice cream, every Jennifer Aniston movie ever made. Up until Wes and David declaring an intervention and shoving him outside so he could 'stop being a woman and find that part of him that made him a tiny bit masculine again'. So no, he was not ready to be in love.

But Blaine had to admit that there was something there, some rekindled feeling that burned in his chest when Kurt was around. He really didn't want it to go away.

"He's not here. Oh my god, he's not here."

David sighed. "Don't make me smack you, man."

Wes nodded. "That goes for me, too. We've been over this. He said 'possibly'."

All three boys turned their attentions to the cafe. It was an average venue, with a smooth linoleum floor and prints of flowers and cabins adorning the walls. There was a gelato and coffee bar at the back, and a space had been cleared in the front for a performance area. It was pretty busy, seeing as how it was a Friday night, and the air was abuzz with idle chatter.

The manager came over to the three boys with a slightly annoyed expression on his face, wiping his hands on his apron. "Blaine, I gave you your ten minutes. Can we get this show on the road?"

"Sorry," Blaine mumbled, picking up his guitar. He liked being an optimist, but sometimes it really sucked to have your hopes crushed. He knew Kurt had said 'possibly', that 'possibly' had been playing through his mind since Kurt walked away. Was it so wrong for him to hope that 'possibly' mean yes?

Someone brought a microphone up to the stool where Blaine sat, and someone else flashed the lights. Wes and David were gone with final pats on the back, and the cafe slowly quieted.

Blaine took a deep breath and switched on the microphone, shooting the audience a grin. "Hello, ladies and gentlemen, how's everyone doing the fine summer night?"

There was a collective cheer in reply, and Blaine chuckled. "Good, that's great. Now, this first song I'm going to sing is not one of my own. It's from a movie all of you should know, about this chick with red hair and a tail who lives under the sea, or something."

A few polite chuckles.

_Not my best night._ He could see Wes and David wincing from the back.

"So...here we go." Blaine strummed the opening chords to 'Part of Your World'

_"I wanna be where the people are_

_I wanna see, wanna see 'em dancing_

_Walking around on those-_

_Whaddya call 'em?"_

There were a few disjointed calls of "Feet!", and Blaine smiled.

_"Oh, feet._

_Flippin' your fins you don't get too far_

_Legs are required for jumpin', dancin'_

_Strolling along down the..what's that word again?"_

"Street!" came the answer from the audience, but Blaine had stopped paying attention. The cafe door had opened and in walked Kurt Hummel, wearing a double-breasted, yellow peacoat and coal-colored skinny jeans. The tightest jeans Blaine had ever seen.

A raised eyebrow from Kurt made Blaine come back to reality, hastily jumping into the chorus.

_"Up where they walk_

_Up where they run_

_Up where they stay all day in the sun! _

_Wandering free_

_Wish I could be_

_Part of that world."_

_He's here! He's here! He's here!_ Blaine shouted mentally, unable to keep a smile off of his face now. Much to his horror, Wes and David had spotted Kurt also, and seemed to be doing what looked like maneuvers from a bad spy movie. But he had to keep playing.

_"What would I give_

_If I could live_

_Out of these waters_

_What would I pay_

_To spend a day_

_Warm on the sand, oh!"_

He looked at Kurt again and swelled up in pride. The look on the younger boy's face is somewhere between shock and adoration, a sweet expression that makes him look far younger than he was. Blaine put a renewed effort into his playing and singing, letting emotion pour into each word. He wondered if Kurt was thinking the same thing he was, about their Disney marathons as children and the soundtracks they played over and over again.

_"Ready to know what the people know_

_Ask 'em my questions and get some answers_

_What's a fire and why does it_

_What's the word?_

_Burn_

_When's it my turn?_

_Wouldn't I love_

_Love to explore that shore up above_

_Out of the sea_

_Wish I could be_

_Part of that world..."_

He trailed off, playing a few more chords, and then stopped, smiling. The audience clapped and cheered, but Blaine's eyes were glued to Kurt. He was clapping, slowly, but the amazed look had been replaced by raised eyebrows and a smirk. A challenging look that said 'You want to win me over? This is the way, and I'll decide if you're good enough.'

Challenge accepted.

The next hour and a half was the most fun Blaine had had in a while. He cycled through every song he knew that was relevant, veering far from the setlist and improvising most of it. Frank Sinatra, Katy Perry, Elton John. Medleys and mashups, he wore out most of the musical ideas he had ever fiddled around with. The crowd ate it up, singing along when they could and clapping when they couldn't. No one seemed to notice that the clock had run over time, and the manager didn't stop him.

When he finished his final song, breathing rather heavily, the audience rose to a standing ovation. Wes and David were probably the loudest. Although they had heard him sing a million times, it had never quite been with the exertion of tonight.

After Blaine bowed, people began to pick up their bags and filter out. He took a long swig from his water bottle and began to zip up his guitar, acknowledging the "Great job, man!"s and "I'm definitely coming to hear you again sometime"s with a wave.

Kurt was waiting by the bar, and even though his jaw was sore Blaine was beaming by the time he reached him.

"So. What'd you think?"

Kurt nodded thoughtfully. "It was alright."

"..oh."

Kurt punched him in the arm. "Don't be stupid! I was joking. You were fantastic." He looked Blaine in the eye, and the softness was back. "I really mean it."

The swell of Blaine's chest was almost visible, and he felt that his face would split in two, he was smiling so hard. "Thanks, Kurt. That really means a lot."

Kurt smirked. "Although, you didn't have to try so hard."

There was a beat, and then they both broke into laughter. And then Blaine felt a sudden tap on the shoulder. He turned to face whoever it was, and his smile faded.

Dale.

He sighed. "What do you want?"

The handsome blonde looked sheepish. "I just want to talk."

Blaine turned back to Kurt, who looked less than impressed. "Sorry, Kurt. This'll only take a second." Turning back to Dale, he took him by the arm and led him a few steps away.

"Make it fast," he hissed.

Dale took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Blaine. I'm sorry that I cheated and I'm sorry that I hurt you. You deserve so much better than what I can give you. You're so talented and gorgeous." He ran a thumb down Blaine's jawline, who couldn't help but shiver. "We had wonderful thing and I destroyed it, I know, but I'm asking you-no, begging you for a second chance."

Blaine didn't know what to say. He had been so hurt and angry, and Dale and at himself for letting someone in so quickly. What he hadn't expected was an apology, and he could feel his resolve starting to melt. He backed away a little bit, holding up both hands. "Dale, I..you can't. You can't do that to me. You can't hurt me like that and just expect everything to be alright when you say sorry."

Dale hung his head, looking like a kicked puppy. "I know. We can take it slow, I promise. Whatever you want."

Despite all of the warning bells going off in his head, Blaine found himself nodding. "Maybe. Taking it slow."

Dale was a lying, cheating bastard. This was true. But he could also be unbelievably sweet and affectionate. They could have intelligent conversations. Blaine could talk about music and Dale would listen, even if he didn't understand, and Dale could talk about sports and Blaine would listen. (Because he mostly did understand) Weekends with Dale were lazy and fun, (besides the occasional frat party where things did get very out of hand) and Blaine was lonely. (And maybe not quite over Dale yet)

Dale grinned. "Great!"

The next Blaine knew, he was being kissed. Sloppy, open mouthed kisses that involved lots of tongue. He may have kissed back for a second, but at the indignant gasp and door slam from behind him shoved Dale away. He wiped his mouth. "What happened to taking it slow?"

Dale shrugged. "Sorry, babe. Couldn't help myself." Blaine groaned, running over to pick up his guitar.

"I have to go." He left, Dale's "Call me!" fading behind him. Kurt had gone once again, and he craned his neck over crowd of people, trying to catch a glimpse. Finally seeing the flash of a yellow coat climbing into a cab, Blaine went to run for it, but a hand on his arm yanked him back. Wes handed him a card with a number neatly scrawled on it, and crossed his arms.

"Kurt says to..." he turned to David. "What was it again?"

"Call him when-"

"Right! Call him when you're done with the poster boy for the Aryan Race. Or Mr. Tongue. I don't know, there was name-calling."

David nodded. "Lots of name-calling. It was great. Can we keep Kurt? He's kind of funny."

"He's a lot funnier than _Dale_."

Blaine sank to the pavement, phone number crumpled in his fist, and vowed to call Kurt as soon as it was appropriate. _You just can't stop the gentleman thing, can you?_


	4. Chapter 4

_To: Kurt Hummel_

_I tried calling you, it went to voicemail._

_From: Kurt Hummel_

_I know. Sorry. We're not suppose to take personal calls at work. Well, the interns aren't._

_To: Kurt Hummel_

_It's fine. Look, I'm really sorry about Dale. I don't know what I was thinking. _

_From: Kurt Hummel_

_Yeah, where did you pick him up? I'd like to know in case I ever need a blonde neanderthal of my own. _

_From: Kurt Hummel_

_Sorry. That was mean. _

_To: Kurt Hummel_

_It's okay. I deserved it. I promise, he won't be around anymore._

_From: Kurt Hummel_

_Blaine, I don't care who you date. Just warn me next time before you decide to host a face-eating competition._

_To: Kurt Hummel_

_Sorry, sorry, sorry. I really didn't think he was going to kiss me._

_From: Kurt Hummel_

_You clearly underestimate the libido of our gender. _

_To: Kurt Hummel_

_Well, I know I'm irresistible. But most people are able to restrain themselves._

_From: Kurt Hummel_

_Not football-loving frat boys. _

_From: Kurt Hummel_

_Why did you date him, anyway? Doesn't seem your type._

_To: Kurt Hummel_

_I thought you didn't care who I dated?_

_From: Kurt Hummel_

_I don't. Innocent curiosity._

_To: Kurt Hummel_

_It's a long story. One that can't exactly be explained over text messaging. Can we meet?_

_From: Kurt Hummel_

_Sure. Come to the superior court tomorrow around noon. The case I'm sitting in on will be in recess for lunch. _

_To: Kurt Hummel_

_Okay. See you tomorrow!_

When Blaine arrived Kurt was sitting on the courthouse steps, neatly picking at a green salad. He looked up, smiling. Blaine felt weak in the knees.

_Keep it together, Anderson._

"Hey, Kurt," he said, sitting beside down and handing the other a latte. "I brought coffee."

Kurt nodded in and took a sip. "I see that. Thanks."

They sat like that for a moment, both staring out at the busy streets, before Blaine sighed. "Dale...he's really not my type. At all. But he pretty much courted me for a month and a half, and I finally agreed to a date. He was smart, funny, nothing like what I expected. Until he cheated on me. Everyone warned me about him, but I didn't listen."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Okay, first of all, I don't see how that fits in with you agreeing to another round of tonsil hockey."

"It doesn't fit. There's no excuse for cheating, I know, but I felt bad. We had a good thing, at least for a little while, and I didn't want him to think that he never meant anything to me. Or that I was a cold-hearted bastard who couldn't give second chances." He thought about it. "Well, technically fourth chances."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "You and your pathological need to please everyone you meet." Blaine started to splutter in protest, but Kurt continued. "_Second of all_, that was not a long story. That could have been typed out on your phone quite easily with the use of some handy acronyms." When Blaine didn't answer, he went on. "Blaine, I don't care. If you want to meet, you just have to ask. I'm not going to force you out of my life." The younger boy was blushing too, and set down his salad. "You're actually growing on me," he mumbled, and Blaine grinned.

"What'd you say? Didn't quite catch that."

Kurt punched him in the shoulder, laughing. "I said you're growing on me, you jerk. Don't make me recant the statement." The laughter faded, and their gazes both fell to the ground. Slowly, Blaine started to inch his hand towards Kurt's, wondering why this had seemed so much easier when he was nine, and then-

"Kurt, the trial's starting up again in ten minutes. We need you back in the courtroom."

Blaine gave a low groan and resisted the urge to bang his head on the concrete.

Kurt turned to give the woman at the top of the steps a quick smile. "Sure, Kelly. Be right there." Once she'd left, he looked at Blaine apologetically. "Sorry. Duty calls."

Blaine shrugged, standing. "I will survive."

"I swear, Blaine, if you start singing Gloria Gaynor on the steps of the LA Superior Court, I will castrate you with a plastic fork."

"Oh, empty threats. You think I'm charming."

Kurt kissed him on the cheek so quickly he could have missed it, except for the pleasant tingle it left on his skin. "That may be. But i'm not ready for that level of embarrassment quite yet." He was gone back into the courthouse with a brush of his hand against Blaine's own, and Blaine sunk back down. Maybe it was fate, maybe he should have seen it coming. But he had definitely fallen for Kurt Hummel again.

_To: Kurt Hummel_

_So, I got roped into a party tonight that I'd really like to skip, but no such luck. Would you maybe think about coming with?_

_From: Kurt Hummel_

_What kind of party? I have a lot of work to do._

_To: Kurt Hummel_

_A college one._

_From: Kurt Hummel_

_Ooh, aren't we mysterious. I don't know if I can come to a party where my virtues might be compromised._

_To: Kurt Hummel_

_I promise, I shall defend your virtues with my life._

_From: Kurt Hummel_

_I can do my own defending, thank you very much. :P Will Mr. Tongue be in attendance?_

_To: Kurt Hummel_

_He may or may not be. Which may or may not be why I absolutely need you there with me._

_From: Kurt Hummel_

_Using your ex as an excuse is not generally the best way to pick up a date._

_To: Kurt Hummel_

_I would never do that! I mean..Kurt! Really! :( Is that what you think of me?_

_From: Kurt Hummel_

_Blaine. Calm down. I was joking. Do you always get this flustered when someone_

_questions your intentions? Actually, don't answer that. Yes, I will come with you, but I expect lots of lattes in the near future._

_To: Kurt Hummel_

_Right. Sorry. Okay, thank you so much. I'll pick you up tonight at 10. Thank you! Lattes are on me until the end of time. _

Sigma Alpha Epsilon was rumored to be the craziest fraternity house on campus. Blaine could tell you that most of the rumors were absolutely true. (Except for the one about the pony and the tranny stripper, that was crap) He had been dating Dale long enough to hear the steady flow of stories and had been at enough of the parties to see them for himself. (Never actually taking part, Dale had been sweet and loyal enough at the time to ensure that) The parties weren't always wild, but you could never be sure, which was why Blaine was rather reluctant about being roped into another one via several complicated favors he owed. He felt guilty about getting Kurt to come, but he needed someone to talk to that would not get completely hammered and make drunken attempts at flirting with him all night.

So, Blaine thought that he should probably say something, but his brain pretty much short-circuited when Kurt walked out of his apartment building. He was dressed in another pair of skinny jeans, dark denim and tighter than the ones before. On top was a dark green t-shirt layered with a white cardigan. His outfit did him much more justice than his suits, and Blaine wished that he could see Kurt dressed like this every day.

Kurt climbed into the cab Blaine had called, smiling. "Hello."

"...guh."

"I'm sorry?"

Blaine coughed, handed the address to the driver, and sat back. "Sorry. Something in my throat." Kurt's eyebrows didn't come back down from his hairline. Blaine was becoming flustered. "Well...hi! You look...you look great!"

"..thanks. You look pretty good yourself."

Blaine was dressed in a pair of jeans and a black and white plaid shirt. He didn't pay very much attention to clothes, but he wasn't a slob, either. He smiled at the compliment. "Thanks, Kurt." There was a beat of silence between them, and then Kurt spoke up.

"Blaine...exactly how wild is this party going to be?"

Blaine swallowed. "I don't know."

Kurt sighed. "Should I be worried? Will there be any highly illegal substances that could lead to my arrest?"

Blaine laughed. "No. Sigma Alpha Epsilon is wild, but they would never do anything that would endanger their attendance at UCLA." He thought about it. "Well, almost never. Just stay away from any open drinks."

The loud rap music could already be heard as the two walked up the pathway to the party. The door opened before they even reached it, and a red-haired boy with a shit-eating grin greeted them. "Hey, Blaine and co. Welcome to the party."

"It's not like you gave me much of a choice, is it, Chad?"

The grin didn't fade. "C'mon. I thought we were friends? Don't friends help each other out by joining the cleanup crew at each other's parties?"

Blaine made a face and shoved past Chad, Kurt following. Inside was dark, people mingling around the kitchen. But the real party was in the basement, as it revealed itself to be the origin of the music. Kurt started down the stairs, tightly holding to Blaine's arm,(there were several unknown substances on the stairs, and he didn't want to slip) but releasing it as soon as they were on level ground again. His quick, beautiful eyes surveyed the scene before them, which consisted of several wallflowers circling around the edges of the dance floor and the dancers themselves, one grinding mass moving in time with the beat.

Blaine raised his voice enough to be heard over the music. "So. This okay?"

Kurt shrugged. "Blaine, it's fine. It looks like a high school party."

Blaine huffed. "Believe me, parties here used to be much wilder. I'm not sure what happened."

"Maybe the people that make it wild just haven't showed up yet."

Kurt's prediction turned out to be very true. As the night wore on, some of the more popular guys from the frat arrived. The atmosphere instantly changed, and Blaine felt like he was breathing in drugs and alcohol just by being present. Several games of beer pong were going on upstairs and downstairs, along with keg stands and chugging marathons. Some people were disappearing, finding a suitable room with whatever partner they had chosen. Blaine was in very bad mood, having had to clean out a vase and scrub a carpet that had been puked on. (Kurt had made him promise to explain his obligation later) But he was in an especially bad mood right now, sipping his fourth beer beer and watching Kurt dance.

The brunette was grinding with two college girls who seemed to think he was the cutest thing in existence, drawing the attention of every man and woman in the room. And Kurt was _good_. Blaine could admit that the sudden tightness in his jeans wasn't a coincidence. Being bitter and turned on wasn't the greatest combination, and he was about to go and get some fresh air when a familiar blonde giant came down the stairs. A very drunk blonde giant. Blaine groaned. He hadn't called Dale yet, putting off telling him that he was no longer interested in a relationship as for as long as he could. He felt bad. But there was no putting it off now.

Dale practically staggered towards him. "Hey, baby," he slurred, "Whassup? You never...never called me.."

Blaine stifled a groan. "Look, Dale. The other night, I wasn't thinking straight. I'm not interested in being in a relationship with you." He waited, but to his surprise Dale didn't seem upset. Of course, he was drunk. Instead, Dale just chuckled and tried to grab Blaine's shoulder. Blaine neatly stepped out of the way.

"C'mon, babe, y'don't mean that..."

"Yes, Dale, I really do. Now if you'll excuse me..." he set down his beer and slipped past Dale, desperate for fresh air. He noticed was the tablet that was dropped in the open bottle.

When Blaine came back, the music had changed. Someone had put on a sugary pop song, which the guys didn't mind as long as it led to the hottest dancers shaking their hips just a bit more. Kurt was dancing with another Sigma Alpha Epsilon boy, an Abercrombie and Fitch model with spiked hair and expensive, douche-y clothing. Blaine wished that it was him instead.

Maybe it was time for him to make a move. He didn't have two left feet, not by a long shot, and maybe it would be enough to bring Kurt to him. Grabbing his beer, he downed the rest of in one gulp and made his way to the dance floor.

Kurt noticed within a few minutes and came over, smiling. "Took you long enough. I thought you were just going to skulk and drink beer for the entire time." Then, his eyes caught sight of Dale, and he sighed. "Don't tell me you just came over here to escape Blonde Wonder."

Blaine shook his head fervently. "No, I want to dance." He grinned. "I got pretty sick of you hogging the spotlight. Figured it was my turn."

Kurt cocked an eyebrow. "Is that so? Well, we'll just have to see about that."

They danced together for a little while, Blaine feeling looser and looser. He could tell that both of them had to rely on some old moves from high school, moves he supposed both came from their respective glee clubs. It was fun, but he was getting a little dizzy.

"Kurt, I need to sit..."

Kurt looked at him, concerned. "Alright. Do you need help? Are you going to be sick?"

Blaine honestly didn't know, he felt like his entire body was becoming weightless and things were beginning to spin around. Kurt was still in front of him, and Blaine looked him over. _Those lips, those perfect, pink lips, were just so... _With a sudden surge of aggression, he swooped forward and sealed their mouths together, a hard kiss that was completely lacking of passion or feeling, just _lust_. Kurt kissed him back for a split second before shoving him away, eyes wide and angry. Blaine barely felt the slap, but it sent him stumbling.

"What the hell was that?" Kurt cried.

"That was me, doing whatever the hell I want. I want you, Kurt." God, this felt good, just saying whatever without worrying about consequences.

Kurt's mouth fell open in shock. The two girls he had been dancing with before appeared on either side of him. "Is something going on, Kurt?" The younger boy just stared at Blaine for another second before sniffing and turning away.

"No. Let's dance some more, girls." He was gone again, and Blaine wanted to call him back, except he was so dizzy he couldn't stand up straight. He suddenly found himself supported by two large hands.

"C'mon, babe." The words whispered in his ear were hot and slurred, but Blaine let himself be led up the stairs to the main part of the house. The people they passed were a blur, and before long he was being dropped on a bed. Wet, sloppy kisses were pressed up his collarbone to his mouth, tasting like beer and sweat. The body above rubbed their groins together, moaning, and Blaine instinctively moved with the rhythm. He bucked, hitting his skull off of the headboard, but not really feeling it.

"Y'like it rough? Then I'll give it to you rough."

Hands were tugging at his belt buckle, and Blaine dimly thought that he should protest, but he couldn't make himself move. Those hands were slipping down, down, down...until he felt hot fire and bit his lip so hard it started to bleed.

There was a loud crash as the door swung open and light flooded the room.

"Get off of him, you overgrown primate!" Blaine wasn't sure exactly what was happening, but there was a grunt and the body above him crashed to the floor. Small, dainty hands pawed at him, trying to lift him up. (_Kurt?_)

"Blaine, please. We have to go. Please try to stand." He did, but he was a bit wobbly, and had to hold on to the dresser when Kurt let go of him.

"Dale. Just let us pass. I won't call the police, just let me take Blaine home."

"No. He was...he was gonna be with me.." Kurt fell on the bed and those huge hands reached for Blaine again.

"I said no!"

There was a grunt of pain, a crash, and the hands were gone. Kurt hurriedly put Blaine's arm around his shoulder. "Blaine, I just assaulted someone, and we really need to be going."

That was when Blaine blacked out.

He came to in short spurts of consciousness the next morning, first being aware of a body curled around his, the pain of sunlight when he tried to crack one eye open, and the way his mouth tasted like something had curled up and died in it. At one point he was spasming, at another dry-heaving, but there was always a pair of cool hands calming him back into stillness. And then, when he woke once more, he realized that he could hear the strains of a song over the sound of the shower.

"_It won't be easy, you'll think it strange_

_When I try to explain how I feel_

_That I still need your love after all that I've done_

_You won't believe me_

_All you will see is a girl you once knew_

_Although she's dressed up to the nines_

_At sixes and sevens with you_

_I had to let it happen, I had to change_

_Couldn't stay all my life down at heel_

_Looking out of the window, staying out of the sun_

_So I chose freedom_

_Running around, trying everything new_

_But nothing impressed me at all_

_I never expected it to,"_

It was beautiful, the song, the voice. _Like an angel,_ floated across Blaine's mind, and he laid there with closed eyes and listened.

"_Don't cry for me Argentina_

_The truth is I never left you_

_All through my wild days_

_My mad existence_

_I kept my promise_

_Don't keep your distance_

_And as for fortune, and as for fame_

_I never invited them in_

_Though it seemed to the world they were all I desired_

_They are illusions_

_They are not the solutions they promised to be_

_The answer was here all the time_

_I love you and hope you love me,"_

Even in his slightly comatose state, Blaine could recognize when a singer really meant what he was singing. And this angelic voice most definitely did. He couldn't remember the last time he had heard such raw emotion poured into a song.

"_Don't cry for me Argentina_

_The truth is I never left you_

_All through my wild days_

_My mad existence_

_I kept my promise_

_Don't keep your distance_

_Have I said too much?_

_There's nothing more I can think of to say to you._

_But all you have to do is look at me to know_

_That every word is true."_

Blaine waited, and realized the song was over. And that Kurt had song the song. Thinking about Kurt and how he felt for the younger boy made his head hurt. He was so confused. He tried to open his eyes, but a fresh wave of nausea came on and he instinctively reached for the bucket by the bed. Kurt came running out of the bathroom, pulling his curls out of his eyes and whispering soothing words. When it had passed, he helped Blaine back on to the pillows, whispering softly into his ear.

"I have to go to work, Blaine. Make sure you drink plenty of water, eat something if you can stomach it. Wes and David will be here as soon as they can."

Blaine sank back into a blissful, painless sleep.


End file.
